


Reunion

by imitateslife



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015)
Genre: Friendship, Post-Canon, Pre-OT3, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imitateslife/pseuds/imitateslife
Summary: After six years apart, Victor and Igor have changed - amazing, how easily they fit together again.Day 4: Past or Future





	Reunion

“So, you really did name her Victoria.”

Igor looked up from the dishes he was watching to see Victor Frankenstein, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. The smile that blazed across Igor’s face as he toweled off his hands and rushed to embrace his old friend could have lit a thousand gas lamps with its brilliant flame. He almost didn’t recognize Victor, for the shock of silver in his hair and the cane he leaned upon, the rocky lines across his face, carved, no doubt, by whisky colored erosion.

“Of course, we did,” Igor said.

He shut his eyes and laughed against the crook of Victor’s neck. He wondered which of his girls Victor had run into on his way inside – his wife, Lorelei, pregnant for the third time and insistent that she could still do all a woman in less delicate condition could, or his eldest daughter who told everyone who passed by the stoop that she would be a doctor one day and didn’t know a stranger. He wondered how long Victor would stay -could stay – since his letters were not always clear. With the death of his father, Victor had an inheritance to claim and Igor realized as he pulled out of those warm, strong arms, that there was not even the slightest trace of grief in Victor’s eyes. They were clear and brimming with joy. Victor’s free hand stroked Igor’s face.

“I’ve missed you,” Victor said softly. Then, louder, “But I don’t miss the hair. Wasn’t the first thing I told you to do to do something about it? It’s only taken you six years to listen.”

Igor laughed and ushered Victor to the kitchen table. Victor seemed reluctant to sit, as if he wanted to stand, three-legged or even two-legged at Igor’s side. Eventually, he creaked into the chair and rested the cane against the wall. Igor poured tea and sat across from Victor.

“How long are you in London for?” Igor asked.

“Ready to be rid of me so soon? Do I not fit in with your respectable middle-class life now? Funny… as I recall, a certain Doctor Straussman invited me to join in his private practice upon my return to London.”

“You’re staying?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I haven’t over estimated your intelligence, have I?”

“No! No. Where are your bags?”

“Victoria wanted to look at my medical supplies. I hired a man to take the rest to father’s old townhouse.”

“So, you’re _not_ staying.”

“Of course he’s staying. He’s just too stubborn to realize it.”

“Lorelei,” Victor said. He looked her up and down with a little smirk. “I see you’ve been keeping Igor busy again.”

She grinned wolfishly at the vulgarity and went to the stove to pour herself a cup of tea and then said, “I see you finally sickened of German sausages. How was the trip from Ingolstadt?”

Victor’s face spasmed as he laughed. It was good to be home again. He reached for Igor’s hand across the table and looked between the Straussmans. Six years truly was too long.

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely connected to my other stories - "The Winthrop Child" and "The Lives They Made", if you're paying attention.


End file.
